A Separate War

A Story by Abishai100

A tale of two eccentrics in the United States, and one's a 'stalker' now of the other, despite a childhood-bond, which may illuminate their current rivalry (destiny!).

A Batman comics fanfiction inspired by some of the 'd' themes in Stephen King adapted Misery (James Caan). Thanks for reading,

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New England (Vermont) snow has a nice touch to it, just as does high-quality dairy-milk in this very iconic region of the United States (Western civilization). Well, it's where a certain games-writer had developed his 'uncanny' interest(s) in storytelling before he became the night-time continental vigilante known as Batman ('the dark knight').

Batman has to contend with his biggest nemesis of criminal-insanity in the Western world, a harlequin of mischief/anarchy named Joker whose real-name is unknown by all but to Batman whose own real-name is Amlan Satan. Well, Batman's apprehended the dark Joker, prince of crime and anarchy, while he tried to destroy the new Gotham Aquarium which would house a terrific great-white shark.

BATMAN: What's happened to you Jack?
JOKER: Only you know my real name ('Jack'), since we'd been childhood buddies, eh?
BATMAN: You had promise and ambition and became a crooked-psycho, Joker.

JOKER: I know for fact you'd been a promising sane writer before becoming a loony-vigilante!

BATMAN: I do what I do for the sake of others, Jack!
JOKER: Don't you miss your days of lonely-pensive sentiment-writing(s)?

BATMAN: Sure, I do; I used to write about ice-hockey fables/emotions.

JOKER: Have you read the laureled The Game (Ken Dryden).

BATMAN: Parts, Jack, but you're asking about literary reflection(s), and you're in serious troubles.

JOKER: We'd parted ways because you'd simply not seen things my way, but you'd been a great writer!
BATMAN: You read my cyber-writings, eh, Jack?
JOKER: Yes, Batman, and I can't help but feel confused why you gave up your ice-hockey tales?
BATMAN: Maybe I prefer defending the threatened athletes in soccer (World Cup) now?
JOKER: A-ha, well, I wished (personally!) you'd followed and surpassed the Dryden work.

BATMAN: That's interesting; we'd parted ways as boys since your path differed.

Amlan ('Batman') remembered his younger days in New England when he wrote great shorts (tales/fables) about the emotions of ice-hockey life and the community spirit(s) it invoked in terms of localized/organized forms of socialized distances, dreams, danger(s), detention, and dogged destiny. It was a sport which reminded him of swiftness, grace, teamwork, excellence, good-play, private daydreams, courtship, and sportsman's valor. He considered it a sport of great human significance. In fact, he wondered if his 'passion' for ice-hockey fable-writing 'moved' him eventually to turn from a pensive Vermont writer to a vigilante of brooding sadness about the 'darkness' of men (or women!).

BATMAN: Why'd you so look keenly at my cyber-writings (ice-hockey)?
JOKER: I care nothing for the game.

BATMAN: Well, why then this newfound fascination with my past, Jack?
JOKER: Well, I feel that your 'keen' vision(s) of ice-sports dance is reflective of human distances.
BATMAN: Sure; but you're still in troubles now as a super-psycho!

JOKER: Our paths diverged, because you'd been too soft.

BATMAN: I suppose that's free-speech, but I'm confessing I'm 'honored' you praise my writings.
JOKER: Writings...not vigilantism.

BATMAN: I still think of creativity...I still 'doodle' about heroines rescuing masked-men from darkness.

JOKER: Sounds like an ice-hockey 'doodle' I read on your cyber-block, Amlan Satan.

BATMAN: Thanks (I guess!).

Amlan Satan ('Batman') remembers his time writing ice-hockey fables and wonders what sets-apart the creative-thinker from the vigilante! After all, he even spent some short-time in Vermont coaching a youth-hockey league, sometimes Bauer-geared up to show his 'apt-pupils' the grace/luck/choreography of the defined Western game of team, wits, toughness, and aim. He remembered when he'd been a 'man' of honor but peace and compared his old self-image to the one he held of himself now --- one of a 'dark knight' of criminal-insanity.